


Out of Breath

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [73]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Almost Beach Sex, Alternate Universe, California, Cute, Dean hates exercising, Fluff, Funny, M/M, Skinny Dipping, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running sucked. A lot.</p><p>And Dean didn't know how to exercise properly, so thank goodness a kind stranger stepped in to help. A kind stranger who also happened to be crazy (and the yoga instructor from the studio Sam dragged him to once)...</p><p>Dean was screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Breath

**Author's Note:**

> This was the winning selection for the 2015 Supernatural Monthly Challenge - March.
> 
> I chose these five prompts out of the list:
> 
>   * “I think you need more electrolytes.”
>   * Pinching
>   * Quitting Smoking
>   * Skinny dipping
>   * Getting slapped in the face with a fish
> 

> 
> This story was super fun to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> Art by the fabulous [mizgoat](http://mizgoat.tumblr.com/)!

How the _flying fuck_ did Sam do this every day?

Dean stopped running to try and catch his breath. He wheezed and braced his hands on his thighs. To his right, the ocean sent waves crashing to shore before yanking them back. Water inched toward him, but he stood just out of reach where he had halted. Behind him, the surf swallowed some of his meandering footsteps and left only trails of sediment in their wake.

It was like Dean had never been there at all. If only that were the case. But _no_ , apparently exercise was a good way to quit smoking. It took his mind off the addiction. Or something like that. He hadn’t been paying that close attention.

Dean’s lungs ached in his chest. Ungrateful bastards. He was _trying_ to help them. And what better way than to kill himself by running on sand instead of asphalt? Dean lived close enough to the beach for it to be convenient, and once, he had snorted to see all types of people running.

First were the hot moms, who were small but strong and almost, if not always, wearing a belly shirt to show off their hardcore abs. Then there were the sweaty weirdos in track suits with headbands, and muscly douchebags that looked ready to burst out of whatever tiny clothing they deigned to wear. College girls were a much pleasanter sight, usually traveling in packs, and then there were the hippies who waited till sunrise or sunset so they could be ‘one’ with the universe while they exercised.

The normal ones, like Dean, were few and far between, and several passed him as he let his body relax for a moment. Most of the solo runners had phones strapped to their arms and buds in their ears, but Dean preferred the sound of the ocean. He always had. Okay, well, not _always_.

Dean was born and raised in Lawrence, Kansas, but he moved to California when his brother, Sam, got accepted to Stanford. He hadn’t wanted to crash Sam’s parade and invade his life, but Dean was done with Lawrence. The town held nothing for him but bad memories of house fires, losing his mother, and deadbeat dads. Dean needed a fresh start, so California it was.

Not like he was doing anything grand in the Golden State except trying to get his life back on track. Dean was a mechanic, and a damn good one, but he had come to California with some bad habits to kick. Smoking was one of his lesser vices, but it was still important to get rid of it. He was twenty-four years old. It was about time he got healthy, at least according to Sam.

Of course, Sam was a health nut who purposely bought things like kale and quinoa when he went grocery shopping. He would’ve gone vegan, too, if Dean hadn’t raised him to appreciate a good steak. Dean smirked.

They had dinner coming up soon at their favorite steakhouse. It’d probably be the first time Sam would have red meat in weeks. Dean couldn’t wait to see his stupid face when he realized how dumb it was to avoid one of life’s greatest treasures.

Dean straightened and let thoughts of Sam slide. His shirt clung to him as he picked up the pace again, his calves protesting the uneven ground.  He pumped his arms and let breath flow through him. The sun was sinking, and sure enough, hippies emerged. Dean passed a few women doing yoga on the beach and mentally rolled his eyes. Sam had tried to get him to do yoga once, but Dean didn’t bend like that. Or at least that’s what he claimed.

Dean would go to his grave before he told Sam that it wasn’t the _yoga_ that bothered him so much as the yoga _instructor_. And bothered wasn’t quite the right word, unless it was _hot_ and bothered. The white dude, roughly Dean’s age, had been tanned and lean, with tousled brown hair and striking blue eyes. He’d tried to adjust Dean’s downward dog position with a light touch to his back, and Dean’s bodily response had been so horrifying that he forced himself to face-plant in order to hide the evidence.  He had hurried from the room with his face flaming and only emerged when the class finished.

Sam’s teasing was merciless, though Dean had growled at him. So he was starved for touch? Yeah, well, that’s because he was trying to limit his one-night stands. They’d gotten out of hand back in Kansas, and Dean was trying to be a better person. If that meant he went home alone more often than not, that was a good thing, right?

The beach slowly emptied now that twilight was well and truly upon them. For the next mile or so, Dean was alone as he skirted the tide, huffing and puffing. He was so lost in the rhythm that he didn’t realize how far he’d gone until he paused and didn’t recognize his surroundings. Not only that, but he felt lightheaded, and he belatedly recalled a mental note to buy a water bottle since he had left his at the apartment.

Glancing around now, Dean saw that the usual vendors had packed up their stalls for the night. Dean’s legs felt like Jell-O as he hobbled over to collapse farther up on the beach. Normally he hated sand, but right now he hated the thought of standing even more.

Dean pulled out his cell phone from his shorts. He was about to use the GPS to track his location and then call Sam to pick him up when a voice stopped him.

“I think you need more electrolytes.”

Before he knew it, a man passed him an unopened blue Gatorade before settling beside him. Dean accepted the bottle and his eyes widened. This was some sort of cruel coincidence, wasn’t it? The man was none other than the hot yoga instructor who had flustered Dean so badly a while back. He was wearing white running clothes, and Dean couldn’t help letting his eyes flicker over how fitted they were to his chest and legs. He had some really nice pecs and big, beefy thighs. He had also worked up a light sweat, so Dean got a hint of his spicy deodorant when the wind picked up.

“Uh, thanks,” Dean said as he uncapped the seal and took a sip. A second later he was gulping down Gatorade, not having realized how thirsty he was.

“You came to my yoga studio,” the man said when Dean had recovered enough to act like a normal human being.

Dean flushed at his terrible manners and held out the bottle, though Castiel made a gesture for him to keep it. “Yeah. Thanks for this. I was really dying there.”

“Do you run often?”

Dean barked out a laugh. “Uh no. I thought that was obvious.”

The man smirked at him, and the setting sun glinted in his eyes. “I’m Castiel.” He stuck out a hand and they shook.

“Dean. It was my brother Sam who dragged me—I mean _brought_ me to your studio. I’m uh…kinda new to the exercise thing. Trying to quit smoking, you know?” Dean winced at his blabbermouth. He clamped up as Castiel nodded.

“I see. I had hoped you would come back to the studio. Give it another try.”

“Dude, I’m shitty at yoga. I don’t bend that way.” When Castiel’s face fell, Dean realized how that could be interpreted and hurriedly added, “No, that’s not…I mean, I do, but I haven’t in a while…I’m just…” He groaned. “Can I start over?”

Castiel’s lips twitched in amusement. “What are you trying to say?”

Dean’s mouth fell open but he couldn’t produce words. He gaped like a fish for a few seconds before Castiel laughed.

“Dean, would you like to go skinny dipping with me?”

“ _What_?”

“That’s usually why I run so late. It gets dark, people leave, and I go skinny dipping. Care to join?”

“Dude, are you crazy?”

“What’s the matter? They don’t patrol here after dark.”

Dean sputtered. That wasn’t the point! They didn’t know each other from a hole in the wall, yet Castiel already wanted to— Scratch _wanted_ , Castiel just went for it. He stood and removed his shirt, making Dean’s mouth go dry all over again.

Castiel glanced around as he toed off his sneakers and socks. “Would you mind watching my stuff for me then?”

Dean didn’t have a chance to reply before the man shucked off his shorts and boxers and piled them onto his shirt. Dean couldn’t avert his eyes as he watched Castiel’s bare ass jiggle on the way toward the ocean. He dove into the oncoming waves and disappeared. Dean blinked after him, not sure it had really happened until Castiel’s head popped above the water and he waved.

“It’s really lovely this time of day!” Castiel shouted, and Dean knew what he meant. The light pollution wasn’t as bad out here, and a few stars twinkled in the multicolored sky, surrounded by wisps of cloud. Dean stood and his heart hammered. Checking that the coast really was clear, Dean made his decision and stripped.

He felt better without his soaked clothes weighing him down, and he could feel his sweat drying as he picked his way to the surf. He knew the longer he stood there, the more Castiel could ogle his junk, but honestly, he wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to run into anything in the water.

Once he’d deemed it safe, he waded into the current and swam against it to meet Castiel past the breakers. The man’s head and shoulders jutted out of the water, proving that he could stand.

“Nothing quite like a swim after a long run,” Castiel said with a contented sigh.

Dean had to agree. The cold felt great, bracing even, and the energy of the ocean was invigorating. It was weird to not wear a bathing suit, as he was used to the drag of fabric while he swam, but now, he moved through the water with ease. It was freeing. Dean just hoped nothing would bite him.

“You’re one crazy son of a bitch,” Dean said as they jumped to stay above the waves.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked curiously.

“Yes. Quite often by my ex-boyfriend. Hence the ‘ex.’”

“Oh. I’m…sorry…?”

 “Don’t be. He was an asshole. Look out, big one coming.” Castiel indicated the wave approaching, and they both dove underwater to let it pass over their heads.

Dean wiped his face when they surfaced. “So, uh…what brings you out here?” It was a dumb question, because he already knew the answer.

“I enjoy running when I’m not doing yoga.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those, huh?”

“One of those?”

“Those weirdos who actually _like_ running?”

Castiel grinned, his teeth flashing and his eyes crinkling at the edges. “It’s even worse. I run marathons.”

“Shit! You must have to train like crazy for that! I can’t even imagine it…hell, I only ran a few miles and that nearly killed me!”

“I noticed.”

“You…you what?”

Castiel glanced away, and Dean got the sense that he was embarrassed.

“I…might’ve been following you. I was worried when I saw you swerve suddenly. You looked ready to faint.”

Dean processed that information. “Yeah, well…I’m still figuring it all out. You know, pacing, eating right, remembering to bring water… Trying to be healthier.”

“That’s a good goal to have.”

“Yeah.”

The rest of their conversation was light as the sky slowly faded to darkness. Dean learned that Castiel lived in town with his older brother, who he was not ashamed to say worked in the porn industry.

Dean choked at that and accidentally inhaled water, which sent him coughing until Castiel approached to clap him hard over the back.

“Thanks,” Dean croaked. Castiel stood so close that Dean could feel the warmth radiating from him in the cool water. He forcibly reminded himself that they were both naked, though a traitorous part of his brain wondered what Castiel looked like from the front. Not that it’d be very impressive in the cold, but still…

A big wave went up his nose while Dean was distracted, and he hacked again, though he moved a few paces away from Castiel so he wouldn’t be tempted.

“Are you alright? Watch out, there’s another,” Castiel said, and Dean dove beneath the next wave. It was when he was underwater that something decidedly _non-human_ slapped him in the face. Dean shot to the surface and shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

“AHH! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” He scrambled backward, his heart pounding. In the remaining glow from the sky, he could see a small shape bobbing on the waves.

Castiel moved around him to investigate. “It appears to be a dead fish.”

“EW! It _touched_ me!” Dean shuddered and his eyes darted over the waves as if he’d be able to see beneath them. Suddenly, he was convinced that there were all kinds of creepy-crawly stuff under there, just waiting to pounce, and here he was completely exposed. This was insane and it was _gross_. “Man, I’m done!”

Dean threw himself into the water and let the waves carry him to shore, where he struggled to his feet and back to his pile of things. Pulling on his now chilled clothes was less than fun with him being wet and covered in salt, but at least when he had his shorts on, he felt safer.

It’d still chafe like a bitch though.

Castiel stumbled out of the surf soon after Dean had clothed himself and sat down, and the thickening gloom meant Dean couldn’t see any of his naughty bits (not that he was looking) while Castiel dressed.

“Refreshing,” Castiel said as he finally resumed his place beside Dean.

“Yeah, except for the _dead fish_.”

“It didn’t bite you, did it?”

Dean shot Castiel a look and could barely make out the man’s teasing grin.

“Oh shut up!” Dean shoved him and Castiel laughed, shoving him right back.

“I heard your scream and thought for sure you were a goner!”

“I said _shut up_!” Dean said, but he was laughing, too.

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Oh yeah?” Dean reached over to pinch anything he could get his hands on, causing Castiel to yelp.

“You bastard!” Castiel said around the end of a squeal as Dean got a good chunk of his stomach.

“Hey, you never said I couldn’t play dirty!”

Castiel gripped Dean’s shoulders and shoved him hard enough to roll him onto his back. He straddled Dean’s thighs and squirmed, still pinching Dean. Castiel was so _warm_ and the way he wriggled, around the small pinpricks of pain, definitely got a part of Dean excited.

Castiel stilled, no doubt feeling the evidence of Dean’s arousal.

“Tell me to stop,” Castiel breathed.

Dean swallowed. “Why? I don’t want you to.”

Castiel sucked in a wavering breath and was quiet for a few beats before speaking again. “My place or yours? I’m afraid it’s going to get painful if we try to do it here.”

Dean shrugged. “Wherever’s closer.”

They discussed details as Castiel slid off him and extended a hand to help Dean to his feet. Brushing themselves off, Castiel turned to leave and Dean caught his wrist.

“I’m trying to be better,” he blurted, and cursed himself. When Castiel was silent, Dean added, “I mean, I’m trying not to do one-night stands anymore.”

Castiel pulled his hand through Dean’s grip so he could entwine his fingers with Dean’s. “Who ever said this was going to be just a one-night stand?” Dean’s breath hitched as Castiel continued. “I have many plans for you, Dean. You need your yoga postures fixed, and if you’re going to be running every day, you need to be prepared.” Castiel leaned in to whisper in Dean’s ear. “I can help you with that.”

Dean shivered.

“Are you okay with that?” Castiel asked after a moment, and Dean nodded. When he wasn’t sure if Castiel saw the movement, he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good with that.”

“Great.” Castiel squeezed his hand and tugged him inland, toward where he said he’d parked his car.

Dean just let him lead, all the while smirking to himself.

Maybe running wasn’t so bad after all.


End file.
